


iron & cream

by sad_goomy



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Bederia Week, Changeling!Bede, Changelings, Developing Relationship, DressedinPinkShipping, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fluff and Humor, Prompt Fic, Slice of Life, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 10:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22848568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sad_goomy/pseuds/sad_goomy
Summary: There's a certain irony to discovering your true feelings for your only friend alongside your hidden fae heritage - Bede just can't be bothered to find it in the mess that his life has now become.
Relationships: Beet | Bede/Yuuri | Gloria
Comments: 43
Kudos: 104





	1. fair

Bede is only here because Opal kicked him out of the house. 

It’s certainly not because Gloria (who is certainly not his only friend at university) invited him. 

Nevertheless, he makes his way through Ballonlea, towards the central square where the Autumn Equinox Festival has set up, and he spots her right at the entrance, her usual wool beret sitting proudly atop her head. 

“Was starting to think you wouldn’t come,” she hums with a small smile, a teasing one that knows a little too much for his taste. 

He rolls his eyes. “If I didn’t, you’d cry about it in lecture.” 

Not exactly true, but it’s just snarky enough to cover his tracks; besides, she’s always rather chatty in the literature course they share, so no doubt she’d recount her entire time at this tacky fair in excruciating detail while he’s trying to take notes. 

And he absolutely wouldn’t look forward to it – not to the way her Postwick accent gets stronger when she’s excited, or how her eyes flicker from him to the front of the lecture hall, trying to split her attention until she nearly goes cross-eyed. 

“Well come on, you’re the local,” she laughs, looping her arm around his and ignoring his noise of indignant protest at the gesture, leading them further into the square, “Show me everything I need to see!” 

It occurs to him, after he’s showing her the best booth for fairy floss and they’ve taken a seat to watch the local band on stage play a lively folk song, that she could’ve asked a myriad of other people to come with her today. 

Bede might keep to himself, scoff at the idea of socializing with other students who are no doubt a boring waste of his time, but Gloria very much doesn’t. Though she arrived in Ballonlea without knowing a single person, she’s quickly made a name for herself amongst students. They even ran into two girls she knew in line for the candy floss, and she’d easily breezed into a conversation about their seminar, and how their day was, and some rugby game he didn’t watch. If he didn’t know any better, he might think that she’s friends with every single person at their uni. 

But she asked _him_ to go with her to the fair. Him, the boy she sits next to in their morning lecture who never has a kind word to say about anyone or anything, and who even told her that he hated this stupid traditional celebration and refused to go. 

He thinks it might be a sign that she’s a bit too dull to take a hint. 

But then he’s the one who went and showed up, let her hang off his arm and chatter off his ear with little more than a frown. 

Maybe he’s the stupid one. 

She holds the fairy floss up to his face, breaking his train of thought as she tilts her head. An impish spark alights her eyes, and she plucks another piece of pink fluff for herself. “It nearly matches your hair.” 

“Hardly.” His sneer only brings out another chuckle from her as she pulls the fairy floss closer to her chest but keeps it tilted towards him. 

“Want some?” 

“No. It’s pure sugar that rots your teeth.” 

“Good.” She pops another piece in her mouth, waggles her eyebrows as she crosses one leg over the other. “Maybe then all my teeth will fall out and I can finally get those dentures I’ve been eyeing.” 

He can’t help it; the one-note bark of a laugh is out before he can contain it, because it’s not quite a joke but it’s incredibly _her._ It may have only been a few weeks since they’ve started talking, but of at least one thing Bede is absolutely sure. 

“You’re an odd girl.” 

“And you’re an odd boy,” she counters smoothly with a half-smile, finishing off her candy floss and standing to toss the paper stick into a nearby bin. 

It’s something he’s heard often growing up, something that’s crawled under his skin and makes him itch. There’s a reason he’s taken to being by himself, to proving to everyone that he’s above them rather than just outside, on the fringes of society no matter what he’s tried. Kids in primary school would always screw up their faces, call him odd if they caught him talking to plants, or how quickly he got upset. 

Gloria, though, says it like it’s a good thing, like it might be badge to wear with pride rather than a nasty old scar to cover up. 

She turns to face him once more, hands clasped behind her back as she shifts her weight. “Now c’mon, you’re not getting out of this without playing at least one game.” 

He’s already up and leading her towards that section of the fair when he mutters, “You know they’re all scams, right?” 

“That’s half the fun.” 

There’s no logical argument to be made there, so he literally can’t argue with that, and instead settles on scanning the booths they pass. A gaggle of other first years passes them, waving at Gloria, and as she stops to chat with them, he takes the opportunity to pick out the least humiliating game he can. It’s not exactly easy, with all the bright colors and flashy gimmicks, but something simple and without a crowd in the corner catches his eye. 

Gloria raises a brow when he leads her to it. “Horseshoe pitching?” 

“It’s the only one you have even a chance of winning.” His tone is supposed to be haughty, but it brushes up against sincerity for just a second, just long enough that she gives him a curious look and he curses himself in his head, turning to instead face the woman running the game and handing off a few notes as Gloria accepts two iron horseshoes. 

She stands behind the marked line, lines her arm up with the little pole sticking out of the dirt, gives a horseshoe a few experimental swings, and then she releases, sending it sailing through the air. 

It lands a few centimeters short and to the right, and she doesn’t even need to look to know that Bede’s smirking at her, seconds away from an ‘I told you so.’ With a pout, she holds out the other horseshoe to him. “Show the village girl how it’s done.” 

He rolls his eyes, but accepts the horseshoe anyway, their fingers brushing together and his skin feels electric for a moment. 

And then it feels electric for several moments, like something’s tingling and sparking and heating up. He ignores it, chalks it up to the fact that the metal’s been warming up in the sun (despite the fact that Ballonlea hasn’t seen a properly sunny day in five years). 

As he lines himself up, his right hand only grows warmer, and then it’s really burning, his skin prickling where it touches the horseshoe. He gives it a few slow swings, set on ignoring the odd sensation, but then it’s molten and melting him and he hears a _sizzle,_ then his own scream as he drops the horseshoe onto the ground and grabs his own hand. 

“Bede? You all right, mate?” 

There’s sweat forming between his brows, and his stomach is turning as he looks at Gloria, but there’s three of her and they’re fuzzy around the edges. He opens his mouth to say something, closes it, opens it again, but no sound comes out. There’s something lodged in his throat, and his legs are shaking so badly that he thinks he might fall. 

Sound is muffled – not some, but all, like his head is underwater, and he can’t make out the words that Gloria is saying. He feels her hands on his shoulders, gently leading him away from the square and towards the side of a building, some store he can’t recognize right now. 

“Just deep breaths, okay?” He nods, feeling his body slide down and his head fall back against the wall. His heart beats against his ribcage so hard he thinks the bones might splinter, and his hand is still burning. The world is spinning, so he closes his eyes, tries to find some sort of grounding and finds it in Gloria’s voice as she leans down in front of him. “Do you need me to get someone? Talk to me, Bede. Look at me, please, I don’t know what’s going on.” 

He opens his eyes, and it’s like he’s seeing the world for the first time. 

There are traces of something silvery in the air, and colors are more vibrant, more plentiful somehow. His gaze shifts and then focuses to the right of Gloria’s cheek. A thin gauze of spring green surrounds her like a halo, pulsing and alive in a way that makes sense but he can’t quite explain. When he looks right in front of him, into her eyes, he can see spots of ivy and amber hidden amongst deep brown. 

Her mouth falls open, and her hands fly to her purse, digging around blindly as she refuses to look away, swallowing a lump in her throat as she tries to find the words. “B-Bede, your eyes, they’re...” 

She opens the front-facing camera on her phone, holding it up to his face. 

His eyes, once blue, are now a vibrant purple, with a thin rim of silver surrounding his pupil. 

Well if he wasn’t an odd boy before, he certainly is now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like everyone else probably went for something sweet and meaningful with this prompt and I instead went "Gloria thinks Bede is dying while he tries to not vomit on her"


	2. feelings of love

There’s a learning curve to his fae powers manifesting, one that Opal guides him through as best she can. 

When Gloria brought him home a few weeks ago with his eyes shimmering, _literally shimmering like no human’s should,_ Opal had simply led them to the couch, nodding her head and wagging a finger as she walked to a bookcase in the sitting room, pulling out several tomes. 

“I had my suspicions,” she crooned far too calmly, giving both of them a cryptic smile, “And in all my years in the theater, I’ve learned it never hurts to be prepared.” 

Which does little to actually explain anything, but after weeks of having to put up with headaches thanks to his new vision, and strange powers that manifest in uncontrollable ways, all while having to attend his usual classes, Bede is glad that at least someone is handling this well. 

Gloria, for her part, only freaked out for two hours (which technically means she took it better than him, because he passed out about five minutes after Opal began her explanation of what a changeling is). Then, after several deep breaths and a cup of tea, she’d apparently asked to borrow a few of Opal’s books and went home after being sworn to secrecy. 

He also reads them, once he comes to, and it helps him settle at least a little until Opal nonchalantly mentions the fact that she’s not sure what’s fact or fiction, or if there’s such a thing as either and he nearly passes out a second time. 

By the time he comes down with something flu-like over a three-day weekend, he’s honestly not surprised and too tired to really try and dissect what’s happening. 

Opal sits by his bed, refilling his mug with tea before flipping the page of the leather-bound book in her lap with a hum. “Could be a side-effect to your transformation being so complete and abrupt. Your body is simply responding to the change with exhaustion.” 

“Could be,” he mutters distractedly. The past two days have been a bedridden blur, with the fever hitting just after he left campus with Gloria, waving her off as she dashed back to her dorm to pack for her trip to Postwick. It’d been spur of the moment, but with the long weekend and a drastic drop to train ticket prices, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see her mom and brother. 

It also means that he’s been stuck alone in his room, staring up at the ceiling as his body aches and he wonders if he should text her. He even goes so far as to consider calling her, to hear the sound of her voice just to fill the gap in his days and soothe the ringing in his ears. 

“But then again,” Opal says with a knowing little grin, one that he frowns at even before she adds, “Could be a form of lovesickness.” 

He huffs, sitting up and snatching the mug of tea to make a point – it backfires when the motion has a splash of tea staining his bedsheets. “What on earth are you talking about?” 

“Fae react differently to emotion, often with physical manifestations.” She places the book on the side table and reaches for the umbrella leaning against the wall, using it to stand as she gives him a wink as he sips from his mug. “Your cute little friend hasn’t come calling this weekend, which seems to be your longest separation yet. That could cause quite the toll.” 

“You’re not making any sense.” 

She’s making perfect sense, actually. It’s just that in order to admit that, he’d have to admit that his feelings towards Gloria could be anything besides indifference, or at best, a passing interest. 

And if he goes and does that, then he’d have to admit that he actually wants friends, or worse, someone to really connect with, and that implies that he has feelings, and that’s a whole mess he doesn’t want to get involved in. 

Opal’s in the doorway when there’s a knock on the front door. He doesn’t think much of it as he sets his tea back on the nightstand and burrows further under the blankets; for her part, Opal’s poker face doesn’t budge as she makes her way down the hall, mumbling, “Now I wonder who that could be...” 

Bede closes his eyes, letting his body sink into the mattress as he sniffles. Sleep seems to be the only reprieve he can get from this strange illness, but then his dreams have been haunted by a rather familiar face and an aura of spring green that blends harmoniously with his light pink. 

“Hello, dear. My, you look a bit harried, did you come here straight from the station?” 

There’s a laugh that ends in a half-snort, which is strange, because the only person he knows who laughs like that is– 

_Oh no._

Bede’s eyes snap open. He can hear Gloria’s voice, crystal-clear and soothing, like a verbal ibuprofen for his headache. “Oh no, I stopped off at home to pick this up.” 

“I do hope you brought enough for me as well; terribly inconsiderate otherwise.” 

“Think I went and made enough for the whole village.” 

Opal hums, and her umbrella joins the rhythm of footsteps. “Let’s get some proper serving dishes.” 

If Bede were listening, he could have figured out by now that Opal somehow found a way to contact Gloria, leading to her immediately jumping in to help (as she’s wont to do) by cooking something for him the minute she got back to Ballonlea. 

Except he’s not listening, because he’s too busy trying to make himself look decent and _not_ like he’s been in the same pajamas all weekend, while also tidying his room. It quickly becomes clear, after he stands up to throw on a cleaner shirt and tosses used tissues into the bin, that he doesn’t have the energy to do either. Nor does he have the time, as he can hear the clatter of bowls and silverware in the kitchen, followed by a pair of footsteps coming closer. 

He runs his fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth it, only to make it worse, when the door handle turns and Gloria timidly calls, “Bede? You decent?” 

Technically, he is, but in this one moment in which his one friend is going to see him in the one state where he’s an utter mess, he decides his only option is to dive under the covers and hide. He shuts his eyes, trying not to flinch when he hears the door open, and tries to silently will her presence away. It feels a bit like when he was younger and afraid of the dark, trying to hide from an imagined bogeyman. 

Except this bogeyman is half a foot shorter than him and bringing him soup. 

“How’re you feeling?” 

“Go away.” 

She chuckles, and he can hear her moving to sit in the chair Opal had been in. A bowl is set down as she tuts, putting on an air of faux-disappointment as she tells him, “Opal called me this morning and told me you were sick, so when I got back to Ballonlea I made some of the soup my mum always makes me when I’m ill.” 

He sighs, realizing that she’s not going to leave because Gloria is nothing if not stubborn. Still, he doesn’t have to be happy about it, so he makes a show of emerging from under the blankets with a frown, though his glare isn’t quite up to snuff. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“No, I didn’t,” she admits, lifting the bowl of soup and passing it off to him with a lopsided smile. Where her fingers touch, the ache in his joints seems to melt away, so much so that he’s left to stare at her dumbly as she sits back, worry creasing her brow. “But I wanted to. Is it so bad to have other people care about you?” 

_Not when it’s you,_ he thinks, because just her presence seems to be lowering his fever, has his entire body relaxing without much effort. As he takes a sip of soup, he finds that it’s a bit heavy for his taste but not bad, and with every swallow it seems to clear away the sick taste in his mouth. 

She watches him for a moment, and then the concern on her face melts into amusement as she leans forward, Bede freezing as her fingers carefully brush a curl out of his eyes. “That’s quite the bedhead you’re rocking.” 

His heart pounds so loudly he swears she can hear it, but if she does then she doesn’t say anything. At least his headache is gone now, and his sore throat has all but vanished. If he didn’t know any better, he might just say Opal was right about lovesickness. 

“What’s with that scowl?” 

“Nothing.” He shoves another spoonful of soup into his mouth, pushing all those troublesome thoughts aside. For half a moment, he considers making her leave because he’s still sick after all, but he’s feeling better with every second that passes, and she _did_ make him soup, so instead he asks, “How was Postwick?” 

Her face lights up, and she dives into a story of the train ride, and how surprised her mother was to see her, and how her brother and friend Hop are doing at uni in Wedgehurst. 

And the longer Bede listens, the longer he looks at her smile, the better he feels, illness replaced by a warm glow that makes his aura bloom and mix with hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops it's a day late but the next chapter should be up soon!


	3. traveling together

When she goes home for the holidays, she extends the invite to him. They’re studying together at the library, so she keeps her voice low and plays with the sleeve of her sweater as she mumbles about how everyone would like to meet him, and she’s not sure if he already has plans to celebrate with Opal, and he doesn’t have to stay the whole time or even come at all, she just thought she’d invite him. 

Never mind the fact that Bede has been plotting for weeks about how to go with her to avoid another bout of mysterious flu that he still refuses to call lovesickness. 

Opal was quick to agree that he should go, insisting she’d be too busy with the Christmas plays her theater was putting on to be any fun to celebrate with anyway – she also insisted that Bede had better get an even better gift for her since their gift exchange would be delayed, but it’s mostly an empty threat. 

Mostly. 

Which is how Bede finds himself waiting at the entrance to Glimwood Tangle at the crack of dawn, duffel bag over his shoulder as he checks his phone and waits for Gloria. Another yawn escapes him as he pulls up his email and opens his train ticket, looking up when he hears footsteps coming towards him. 

“And here I thought I was finally going to be earlier than you.” Gloria wipes the sleep from her eyes, looking up at him with a tired little smile as she shifts her trunk to her other hand. “Ready to go?” 

They’ll have to trek through Glimwood Tangle in order to get to the station. It’s a walk he’s made plenty of times, but that was before he realized he’s a changeling that’s sure to attract other types of magic. Magic that a mortal like Gloria can’t handle as well as him. One wrong misstep and disaster could befall her, and if Opal has drilled anything into him, it’s to always be prepared for disaster. 

He pulls out a large piece of sourdough bread that he grabbed from the pantry this morning and holds it out to her. 

“First, put this in your pocket.” 

She blinks, eyes going from the bread to his face and back again, lifting a brow. “...why?” 

“In case we come across any fae,” he huffs, as if it’s so obvious and she’s being impossible. When he doesn’t budge, doesn’t show any cracks to suggest this is a strange prank, she silently accepts the bread, putting it in the pocket of her coat as he pulls out three bells on strings from a different pocket. “And you’ll need to wear these on your person. Tie them to your zipper, or shoelaces – a spot where they’ll make plenty of noise.” 

As she stares at the bells dangling from his fingers, she’s torn between a deep sigh and a chuckle. “You’ve lost the plot.” 

“Considering everything that’s happened this semester I’m hardly being unreasonable.” 

They’re caught in a stare-off for a few moments, but Gloria is the first to crumble because he’s right, stranger things have happened, and also because there’s a real fear beginning to creep into his eyes. With a simple shake of her head, she accepts the bells, looping the strings through the zipper of her coat and her shoelaces. When she stands, she gives him a smirk. “Happy?” 

Rather than directly respond, he turns, beginning to lead the way as he snaps, “Keep an eye out for any fairy rings, and ignore any strange lights.” 

The walk through Glimwood Tangle takes almost twice as long as it should, with Bede constantly stopping her to go ahead and check. At one point he simply grabs her hand, keeping her right behind him for no particular reason other than something he mumbles about “unusual disturbances in the air” as he blushes. 

She takes it all in stride, biting her tongue and instead letting him fret, because she knows by now that it’ll eat at him otherwise. Besides, there isn’t much to complain about when he’s constantly looking at her, or when he holds her hand tightly in his. 

It’s not until they’ve actually boarded the train, stowing their luggage above them and settling into their seats across from each other that she decides to poke fun at him, giving him a teasing little smile as she purrs, “See? Got here without a single scratch.” 

He scowls. “And who’s responsible for that?” 

With a roll of her eyes and a little chuckle, she settles back into her seat, intent on catching up on the sleep she’s lost this morning with a nap. Before she dozes off, she gives him a look he can’t quite decipher, shaking her head as her eyes flutter shut. 

“You’re awfully cute when you’re worried.” 

Bede blinks, staring at her from across the table as she falls asleep as though she hasn’t just said that, hasn’t just turned his world upside down with a few words. He bites his cheek, watches her as the train pulls out of the station until he can’t take the sight of her parted lips anymore and instead looks out the window. The passing scenery isn’t quite enough to distract him from her words, but at the very least it keeps his mind from racing. 

And he swears that at the very edge of his vision, at the entrance to Glimwood Tangle, a will-o’-wisp is watching them depart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a real quick one of Bede getting overprotective of his not-girlfriend


	4. fantasy

Bede makes a strange first impression on everyone in Postwick. 

It doesn’t help that he has to watch himself, has to carefully mind his wording lest he accidentally gain control of someone’s name, or have them incur a debt, and while Victor and Gloria’s mother brush it off with polite smiles, Hop is... 

Well, he’s Hop. 

They meet on the second day of his visit, just outside the pub in Wedgehurst that Hop and Victor have taken to frequenting, and he sticks his hand out with a wide smile as he greets with a small-town charm that must come second-nature to him, “Take it you’re the infamous Bede, then? The one who’s been keeping our Gloria out of trouble.” 

Gloria clicks her tongue in disapproval while Victor smirks at her, and Bede only stares at the outstretched hand being offered. There’s no harm in him shaking hands with a mortal, he knows this, and yet he finds that the very idea of shaking Hop’s hand makes him want to gag. He looks back up at the boy’s face as his smile falters slightly, and Bede realizes just what’s wrong here. 

Hop is exactly the type who’s terrorized him all his life, the boy who’s nearly a local celebrity and rides the coattails of a family legacy while having fun pointing and laughing at the local weirdo who comes from nothing. 

(Never mind that he hasn’t done anything like that in the past thirty seconds, and that some of this bias might be due to how long he hugged Gloria upon seeing her.) 

“You may call me Bede,” he finally replies, when the silence stretches just south of uncomfortable, his hands still buried deep into the pockets of his coat as he puts a little extra sneer in his tone, “And what may I call you?” 

Gloria elbows him sharply in the side, but he doesn’t flinch, instead focusing all of his attention on puffing up his chest, on using all his old tactics to make it clear that he isn’t one to be needled and poked at like a science experiment. Hop blinks, taking back his hand as he shares a look with Victor and an uneasy chuckle slips past his lips. “Bit formal, innit?” 

His fae pride bristles, and he opens his mouth to snap something far less playful back when Gloria beats him to the punch, nearly stepping between the two as she quickly supplies, “Ballonlea thing.” She turns to look up at Bede, her voice tight and glare warning. “You can call him Hop.” 

Then, as if this can’t get any worse, Hop gives him another bright smile and slings his arm around Bede’s shoulders, the fae flinching at how casual this all is, as Hop leads him into the pub with a laugh. “Didn’t mean to poke fun at it, mate – first round is on me.” 

This is the moment Bede decides he hates Hop. 

* * *

Of course, try as he might to avoid Hop, Bede’s still forced to be around him if he wants to spend any actual time with Gloria during the holiday. 

She calls him out on it once, when they’re taking off their boots and coats at the front door. Gloria fixes him with a look as Victor quickly scurries off to the kitchen, clearly sensing the tension in the air. 

“Play nice.” 

“I’m perfectly polite,” he jabs back, adjusting his sweater. 

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms with a pout. “You’re bloody _frigid_ with Hop is what you are. He’s been nothing but kind to you, but every time he says something to you, I swear you’re going to send an evil eye his way.” 

And to be fair, he nearly did on the walk back just now, when Hop caught him staring at a baby in the family they passed – strange side effect of fae heritage, a growing fascination in human children and their delicate fates – and pointed it out. It was a lighthearted joke, something about being a family man that Bede’s already forgotten, but it was still enough to have him consider manifesting a patch of ice under Hop’s feet. 

Gloria sighs, shoulders slumping as her eyes turn into a plea. His stomach drops a little as he feels the disappointment radiating off of her, can see the dulling of her aura as she pleads, “You don’t have to be his new best friend, but please, I really want you to get along a little. He’s like my second brother and you’re...” 

He holds her gaze, and his heart beats faster as her cheeks grow pink. It’s just a second of hesitation, but then she’s clearing her throat, looking down at her mismatched socks as her aura _blooms,_ warm and radiant and all for him. 

“You’re really important to me.” 

Something in him melts, and he feels heat crawling up his neck and over his cheeks as he pulls at his shirt collar, desperate to cover his face. 

“...I’ll be nicer.” 

She looks up with a lopsided smile and takes a step closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and drowning him in a warmth that he finds harder and harder to live without as she whispers into the crook of his neck, “Thank you.” 

This is the moment Bede decides he can tolerate Hop. 

* * *

It occurs to him in the space between Christmas and New Years that he hasn’t had cream in a while. 

Unfortunately, it occurs to him at two in the morning and in a slight craze, as his stomach clenches and he tries to not stumble loudly down the steps from the guest room and to the kitchen. He opens the fridge, eyes scanning for anything that could fill the craving that’s clawing at his insides, but finds nothing immediately. 

As he continues to dig around, shuffling tupperware and condiments, he misses the light footsteps coming into the kitchen from the living room. 

“Oi mate, everything all right?” 

Bede does not shriek, mind you, but he certainly jumps several inches into the air and lets out a noise that has him convinced he’s just woken up everyone else in the house. 

Miraculously, there’s no movement upstairs, leaving him to turn slowly and find Hop (who had crashed on the couch after a movie marathon with Victor) scratching at his side underneath his shirt, one eye closed and the other barely cracked open. 

“Take that as a ‘no’ then,” he mumbles through a yawn. 

Bede doesn’t even consider coming up with some acidic retort, because he promised Gloria and he’s also in dire straits. Instead, he swallows his pride as best he can and takes a deep breath before fixing Hop with a look that’s so somber, it has the other boy actually waking up. 

“I need cream.” 

Hop blinks, eyes flickering from Bede’s face to the glowing fridge behind him. “Like, literal cream or...?” 

“Yes, literal,” he huffs, turning to close the fridge door and leaving them in the low light of the moon through the kitchen window – which is somehow making this entire situation worse – and explaining, “I think they’ve run out.” 

“Well, the closest grocery store is in Wedgehurst, and they don’t open until eight. Can you uh, wait until then?” 

Bede gives him a look that communicates, even in the dark, that he absolutely cannot wait until then. His body is already screaming at him, and he suspects if he goes another hour without it, he may very well lose what little control he has over his powers. The last thing he needs is to out himself as a fae to Gloria’s family and best friend by turning someone’s hair green over a cream deficiency. 

Hop gets the message loud and clear, chuckling under his breath as he holds his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, okay, got it.” 

Without another word, Hop turns and exits out of the kitchen, heading towards the front door. Bede raises a brow, confusion cutting through his haze as he follows and watches the other boy throw on his coat and pull on his shoes. 

“What on earth are you doing?” 

“Popping over to my place real quick.” Hop pats his left coat pocket, checking for something that is apparently there since he smiles and nods. “My mum’s a big baker, she’ll definitely have heavy cream. Just a pint okay?” 

He’s not sure what he expected, but it surprises Bede all the same as he mumbles, “Yeah, that’s enough.” 

“Right then, be right back.” 

The front door clicks closed quietly behind him, leaving Bede to stand in the front hall and wonder what the hell is happening. He paces, losing track of time as the cream craving comes back and fogs his mind, along with questions of why on earth Hop is being so damn _nice_ to him. It’s not like he’s been much better than stand-offish, and he’d be hard-pressed to walk in the cold in the middle of the night to get something out of his own fridge for a near stranger. 

By the time Hop knocks on the door and Bede lets him in, he’s no closer to an answer other than inching closer to the realization that Hop is actually nothing like the boys who used to torment him in primary school; there’s a reason Gloria keeps him around, after all. 

When Bede’s swallowed half the pint of heavy cream in a single gulp, clarity comes back to him. He wipes the back of his mouth, looking to Hop, who watches the whole thing with more than a little curiosity but not a single word. 

“I owe you.” 

It’s less an expression of gratitude and more a statement of fact, as Bede can see his aura intermingling with Hop’s now, pink and indigo linking as his fae nature compels him to return the favor. 

But Hop just shakes his head, his arms behind his head as he stretches out his back and gives Bede a smile. “All good, although...actually yeah, I guess I sort of have a favor to ask.” When Bede remains silent, Hop continues on, growing sheepish as he mumbles, “Just, uh, can you keep looking out for Glo? She was real nervous moving all the way out to Ballonlea, and I’m glad she has someone like you around to keep her head on her shoulders.” 

Bede takes another sip of cream, fixes Hop with a look, and feels the last of his acidity towards him fade out of his body as a corner of his lips quirk up. 

“Of course I will.” 

And in the morning, when Bede wakes up with the cold dread of Hop bringing up this entire ordeal to everyone and making fun of him, he finds that Hop keeps quiet about it, instead making conversation about how everyone slept and how he can help with breakfast. 

This is the moment Bede decides he likes Hop. 

* * *

New Year’s in Postwick actually takes place in a pub in Wedgehurst, which immediately becomes more crowded when Hop’s brother arrives with his girlfriend, Sonia (and it takes Bede no less than five minutes to recover from the fact that Hop is related to Leon, Leon of Wyndon United, Leon the star footballer nicknamed the _Champion of_ _Galar_ _)._

As they get closer to the actual countdown, Gloria tugs on his hand and leads him to the backroom, away from the crowd. He follows along, more than happy to actually have room to breathe for once tonight, and maybe a little happy that he’s alone with her in a hallway by the bathrooms as she rests her head on his shoulder and keeps holding his hand. 

She looks up at him, eyes slightly hazy with the two glasses of cheap champagne in her system, and she sighs with a smile, “Thanks again for coming.” 

He nods, doesn’t have anything else to say that won’t give him away, because he may also be slightly tipsy but it’s certainly not enough to have him really letting go of his multitude of inhibitions. 

“And for giving Hop a chance,” she mumbles, thinking for a moment before adding with a giggle, “I know he gives you a hard time sometimes, but that’s how you know he likes you.” 

The countdown is starting in the front, muffled all the way back here, but it seems to be the catalyst Bede needs to lean down closer to her, gripping her hand tighter as he looks into her eyes with a smirk. 

“He might be the only one who likes me.” 

Gloria seems to get the same idea, feel the same string of tension holding them back snap as the crowd chants the final seconds of this past year away. 

“Now we both know that’s not true.” 

The pub crowd roars as the new year rolls around, but Bede can’t hear it because Gloria’s kissing him and it’s even better than what he’s been imagining ever since they got on the train to Postwick. She has one hand on his cheek and the other on his chest, right above his heart as she presses her lips to his with that lopsided smile he loves so much, and she’s warm and green and he swears there are sparks. 

Then there are actual sparks and Gloria pulls back with a slight yelp that turns into a laugh as Bede groans, resigning himself to his fate of jolts of glittering magic zapping off his body and into his air, unable to control it and unable to really care. 

At least, not until a familiar voice gasps behind him, “Mate are you _sparkling?”_

They pale, slowly turning to find Hop standing in the hall, a party horn dangling out of the corner of his mouth as he watches Bede glitter and sparkle with wide, confused eyes. 

This is the moment when Bede realizes he has to tell Hop he’s part fae. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they also tell Victor, don't worry
> 
> you can see where this nearly got away from me and turned into a buddy cop adventure with Hop and Bede but I promise the next few chapters are extra bederia fluffy to make up for it


	5. soulmates

Bede knows better than to ignore invitations from the Seelie Court, to try and postpone the inevitable. 

Still he does it, and now he’s chasing after Gloria, wondering if he’s too late to stop the consequences that have haunted him for weeks now. 

He calls after her, losing her in the darkness of Glimwood Tangle. A flicker of light in the distance alerts him to the line of magic that she’s following, and he begins running once more, shouting her name at the top of his lungs and trying desperately to send his own magic against Oleana’s. He knows it’s no use, that she’s a far stronger fae and he doesn’t even know what her plan entails, but Gloria’s life may be on the line and he _has_ to try. 

The path opens up into a clearing, and his steps slow as his heart stops, blood running cold at the sight in front of him. 

She’s stepped into a ring of glowing mushrooms, leaning over a glamour of Bede’s body, injured and shivering, on the forest floor. However, the magic quickly shifts, melting into a pool of blinding light that has them both shielding their eyes and Gloria jumping to her feet. 

Oleana stands tall and proud, her face still and unreadable as she looks down upon the mortal she’s tricked with uncaring eyes. Her gaze slowly travels behind her, to where Bede stands, and Gloria turns to look, her body beginning to shake with the realization of what’s happened. 

“Curious, how mortals attach themselves so easily to others.” Her pale honey hair flows around her as she raises a hand out to Gloria, turning her attention back to the girl as she drawls, “Come along dear. Our king requests an audience, and you’ll have to do for now.” 

Bede can see the silver strands of her magic latching onto Gloria, trying to pull her close, and though everything in the universe is urging her forward, Gloria pulls against it, lifting her arms and stumbling back with a shout. 

And then she’s outside of the fairy ring. 

Oleana’s magic stops, unable to reach past the line of glowing mushrooms. Gloria blinks, looking down at her feet and back up at the fae as Bede rushes to her side, pulling her close as Oleana’s face twists with frustration and disgust. “Impossible.” 

“Only those with the heart of a fae can enter and exit a fairy ring safely,” Bede mumbles, looking down at Gloria with wide eyes as she returns his surprise. 

A moment passes and Oleana calms, the realization dawning on her face before shifting back to her usual passive expression. “And you have one.” 

Gloria shakes her head, brows knit together. “But I’m mortal.” 

“Yet a fae has given you his heart.” 

Oleana stares directly at Bede, who feels his heart stutter in his chest. He looks down, only to see Gloria looking back up at him with the beginnings of a wide smile, and it’s suddenly far too warm in Glimwood Tangle. He drops his arm from around Gloria’s shoulder, instead using it to lift the collar of his jacket as he gapes, looking between the two. 

“I...I have _not!”_

Gloria raises a brow, ready to tease him for it until she remembers they’re not out of the woods yet as Oleana clears her throat, drawing their attention back to her as her form begins to shimmer and become translucent. “Your luck will run out soon enough, young one. You would do well to not ignore those who call you.” 

Then they’re alone, and the forest is quiet once more. 

And _now_ Gloria teases him, waggling her brows as she reaches for his hand, tone all too amused and loaded with suggestion as she purrs, “Your heart, huh?” 

He scowls, not able to look her in the eyes as he feels the hot wash of embarrassment descend his body. Deciding he wants to be in Glimwood Tangle even less than he wants to have this conversation, he starts to lead them back to Ballonlea as he counters self-consciously, “And what about it?” 

She grows quiet, tilting her head and observing him for a moment before she slows her steps, forcing him to stop for a moment as they reach a turn in the path. With a small smile, she clasps his hand with both of hers, bringing it to her chest and placing a gentle kiss against his knuckles. 

“I’ll keep it safe.” 

Bede stares, and he realizes a moment later that he’s blinking back tears, that he hasn’t ever felt safe enough to share his heart with someone before, and then he’s pulling her into a hug and wondering if it’s possible to never let go. 

“I know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bede, literally holding Gloria's hand, referring to her as his girlfriend, trusting her with his entire world: "yeah ok but I'm not in love with her or anything, that's, ugh, gross"


	6. future

Opal gives him a final look over, straightening out his coat for the ninth time and licking her thumb to wipe a smudge of something off his cheek – for the first time in his life, Bede lets her without a fuss, instead simply letting out the breath he’s holding as he adjusts the strap of his bag. 

She settles her hands on his shoulders, gives a little nod mostly to herself, and then gives him the last of her coy smiles for a while. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

He bows his head, chuckling slightly. “I won’t.” 

“And give them hell.” Her smile grows, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s the first thing I’d do.” 

They pull each other into a hug, and Bede remembers how old Opal is, that for all her posturing and theatrics, she’s still getting older, getting smaller with the years despite how she hides it. He closes his eyes, hating how his voice trembles when he whispers, “I’ll miss you.” 

She pulls back, places a kiss on his cheek as she gives his shoulders a final squeeze. “Then be a dear and don’t keep me waiting.” 

He nods stiffly, and she chuckles as she steps back into the doorway. She watches him turn, walking to where Gloria waits by the streetlight. When he takes her hand in his and they begin walking towards Glimwood Tangle, Opal gives another nod to herself and turns to walk back into the cottage, closing the door softly behind her. 

There is something about the silence that neither Bede nor Gloria can break, and so they don’t, instead making their way deeper into the forest side by side. They take an old path, nearly overgrown with weeds, to the quietest part of the woods that no one dares to disturb. Old magic leaves its mark, swirling around their feet as they walk closer to an old stone archway, leftover from an ancient fort but older than time. 

Neither of them is quite sure how long they stand there, just looking at the gateway. Gloria is the first to break the silence with a sigh. 

“And now you go.” 

He squeezes her hand, looking down at her to find her still looking straight ahead, as though she’s considering taking apart the archway with her bare hands, stone block by stone block. 

“And then I come back.” 

It snaps her out of her glare, has her looking up at him with a sad little smile as she muses, “It certainly seems like they don’t want you to.” 

The Seelie Court’s invitations have grown impossible to ignore, and by now they seem intent on reclaiming who they believe to be theirs. Bede considers this a formality, and a chance to learn more about his fae side, and also an opportunity to let them all know that a strange little mortal actually has more power over him than they could ever hope to have. 

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Well I don’t do anything I don’t want to.” 

“Believe me, I know.” Her deadpan has him frowning, which sets off her laugh as it always does, though it’s quieter this time, subdued by the heavy air in this part of Glimwood Tangle. She faces him fully now, picks up his other hand and plays with his fingers as she mumbles, “Besides, you have to come back at the end of summer. Who else am I going to bother in class?” 

Bede watches her a moment more, and then he’s pulling her close, his chin on her shoulder as he tries to engulf her with his body. 

There are a lot of promises that hang on the tip of his tongue; he can make none of them out loud. He has never wanted so badly to be fully part of her world, and has never been so aware that it isn’t possible, not until they carve out something in between that’s just big enough for the both of them. 

But that will have to wait. 

He thinks, when she pulls back slightly and gives him a smile, that he can wait forever if he has to. 

“If you can ever sneak away, I’ll have a bowl of cream waiting for you,” she giggles, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes amongst the ache. 

“I’ll do my best.” And he means it, and it’s the closest he can get to promising her what he wants. 

A bird cries in the distance and she looks down at the sliver of her shoes that she can see in the tiny gap between their bodies. Suddenly shy, her voice drops to something only he can hear. 

“I suppose you’ll need your heart back for now.” 

He probably will, for the sort of magic that they’ll be showing him, for even just the travel that he’ll need to do. 

“Keep it.” She looks up at him with wide eyes, and he shrugs, tries to fight the blush on his cheeks. “All the more reason for me to come back.” 

Gloria knows the power of her words by now, especially in a place like this, and so she takes a deep breath and says what she’s practiced in the mirror for the past month, since he first told her of his summer plans. 

“Then take mine – I’ve been keeping it warm, just for you.” 

The wink throws him off, and he’s laughing, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt after just moments. 

“You’re an odd girl,” he says, and by which he means that she’s the only person like herself that he’s ever had the joy of meeting. 

“And you’re an odd boy,” she replies, and by which she means that he matches her in ways she never even thought up. 

He leans down, kisses her like he knows it’ll have to last him at least a month, maybe more. She does just the same, and she thinks that she should be frowning now, should be nearly in tears, but all she can do is smile. 

She can’t be sad about him leaving when she already can’t wait to see him again. 

They pull apart when the old magic gives his arm a tug, and he knows it’s past time. She holds his hand as long as possible, their fingers bumping and sliding when he finally slips out of reach. His steps stop just before the gateway, which is shimmering like a mirage as he turns to give her a final smile, the sweetest one she’s ever seen from him. 

“Wait for me?” 

“My whole life and the next.” 

When he walks through, he’s gone, and she keeps looking at the archway until there’s a tug on her heart, and she knows he’s made it safe, and it’s all just a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little bittersweet because I couldn't resist, and it'll make the last chapter all the sweeter


	7. birthday

The last of the guests trickle out of her house, Hop and Leon smothering her in one last hug as Sonia laughs, pulling the two off of her so she can breathe. Gloria waves from the doorway, watching until they reach the bridge and she closes the front door. 

Her mother and Victor are already on clean-up, though they keep the banner declaring a happy birthday up in the front hall. She begins to help them, stacking up paper plates, but Victor shoos her off and she’s more than happy to take the hint. Her legs ache as she climbs the stairs and heads to her room, changing into her pajamas and taking a moment to lie in her bed and close her eyes, trying to see if she feels any different today. 

When it’s quiet downstairs, and after her mom checks on her and gives her a quick forehead kiss, she creeps down to the kitchen and does the little tradition she’s made for herself this summer. 

She pulls out a saucer from a tea set they rarely use, pulls an already opened pint of cream out of the fridge, and pours just enough out for a sip. Then she sets it on the kitchen window sill and takes a seat at the table, ready to wait until she falls asleep. 

Every time she wakes up, the saucer is still full. 

It’s only been two months, she reminds herself, and it’s not exactly an easy feat to slip away from the Seelie Court. 

Still, stranger things have happened on her birthday. 

At around one in the morning, her eyelids grow heavy, and though she tries to stay awake she finds herself resting her head against the table, and her breathing growing slow. 

Then there’s a crash and a whispered _“ow”_ that has her flinching awake, heart racing until she looks across the moonlit kitchen and sees just who it is. 

Bede lifts his head from the kitchen floor, rubbing a growing bump on his forehead with a frown. He’s in a pink robe she’s never seen before, the fabric shimmering as he picks himself up as quietly as he can. Not that it matters, because her chair scrapes loud against the floor as she stands, not caring if she’s dreaming as she throws her arms around him. 

His breath hitches, and then he’s melting around her, mumbling into her messy hair, “Sorry for technically missing your birthday.” 

“Close enough – besides, now you’re in time for Victor’s birthday.” She squeezes him tighter and then pulls back, searching his face. “How long can you stay?” 

“A few hours, I think. Opal managed to send a distraction through for Oleana and Rose to deal with, and they should be busy for a while.” 

Gloria finally lets herself properly smile, as wide and as dazzling as he remembers as she takes his hand and leans over to the windowsill, handing the saucer of cream over to him as she leads him to the table. “Good, because I have a list of questions from Hop and Victor and we need to get through all of them.” 

He nearly stumbles on his robe, and quickly downs the cream as he takes a seat with a slight frown. “Are they inane or idiotic in any form?” 

“In _every_ form.” She giggles quietly, thinking for a moment before deciding to sit in his lap, because the thought of being apart from him more than a few centimeters ruins her. His blush is instant, but his arms are already encircling her without a word, and she smiles softly as she leans into his chest. “But you have to answer them, as my birthday present.” 

His eye roll lacks its usual bitter bite, because he has his own little smirk on his lips as he looks down at her and lifts her chin. 

“First, I need to do something I’ve been thinking about ever since I left.” 

She closes her eyes and he kisses her sweetly and everything is right, just as it should be on her birthday. 

They talk in low murmurs, in looks only the other can decipher, in how they hold each other’s hand as if there is nothing else their fingers were made to fit with. 

* * *

The sunlight wakes her, and Gloria sits up in her bed, blankets falling and pooling around her lap as she tries to recall what happened at around five in the morning, but only finds a haze. She knows it’s still early, but she has to start setting up for Victor’s birthday anyway. 

She’s still trying to decipher if last night was a dream as she goes downstairs and to the kitchen to make herself some tea and breakfast. 

There’s an empty saucer on the kitchen table. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: oh, it's an open prompt on my birthday  
> me 5 seconds later: cool the prompt is "birthday" now
> 
> thanks everyone who read, hope you enjoyed these shenanigans! also, quick explanation on Victor and Gloria's birthday situation: they're twins, but Gloria was born just before midnight and Victor was born technically the next day, so they're both butts about it and make everyone celebrate two days in a row


End file.
